


empty promises

by iidkkdii



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, Emotions, First Kiss, Fluff, Jacob's Gay, M/M, Past physical abuse, Staci Needs a Hug, Staci's Gay, empty promises, no beta we die like men, past emotional abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 13:29:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18811858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iidkkdii/pseuds/iidkkdii
Summary: just empty promises.





	empty promises

jacob sits staci down, carefully, untying the blindfold and undoing the restraints on his wrists. it’s dark, stars in the sky and the hot springs in front of them. 

 

staci curls up, pulling his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on them. he watches the water. 

 

“why do you bring me out here?” he asks after several beats of silence. 

 

jacob turns and looks at staci. “what do you mean?”

 

“like…” staci pauses, thinking about his words. anything he says could flip a switch in jacob, good or bad. “i thought i was your prisoner. aren’t captors supposed to be.. awful to prisoners?” 

 

jacob turns towards the sky, taking off his steel-toed combat boots. he takes off his socks and stuff them in his boots, rolling up his dirty pants. he dips his feet in the water. “you aren’t my prisoner, peaches. you were, but you aren’t anymore. when i first brought you here, i never would’ve dreamed of bringing you out here.” 

 

staci listens, watching as jacob’s feet swishing around in the warm, sulfur-y water. 

 

“you’re more than a prisoner, and i trust i’m more than just a captor to you, yes?” jacob asks. 

 

staci’s been trying to avoid this question in his own head, about what jacob is to him - someone he likes, trusts? he thinks about how jacob’s protected his dignity from his charges, the chosen, the judges. jacob’s been there, wiping away tears, even after he was the cause of those tears. he’s healed bruises, bandaged cuts and holes, been the one that holds staci after the trials, after a long, long night of starvation. 

 

“i… i think so,” staci answers truthfully. he hears jacob shift and suddenly he’s being pulled closer, tucked against the eldest seed’s side. 

 

hesitantly, staci pulls out from under jacob’s arm and settles over jacob’s thighs, sitting down and running his palms up jacob’s chest. his hands run over jacob’s neck, by his pulse and up into the ginger’s hair. he cards his fingers through it, feeling grease and the slickness of hair when it hasn’t been washed in a while. 

 

his heart pounds.

 

“what're you doin’, peaches?” jacob asks quietly. 

 

staci stays quiet, leaning down and ghosting his lips, trying to decide if he wants to go down this path. he’s still for a moment until jacob tilts his jaw up and connects them. both men stay still, both for different reasons. staci’s terrified he’ll do something wrong and jacob waits to see what staci will do. 

 

slowly, staci kisses jacob, experimentally. jacob returns the favor, places a large hand on staci’s hip, his thumb where thigh and hip meet, nestles nicely in that crease. 

 

jacob pulls away, asking lowly, “what are you doing, pratt?” 

 

“i don’t know,” staci replies quietly, voice breaking. his face, sweet and child-like, shows a look of confusion. “i don’t know what i’m doing.” 

 

jacob tucks a black strand of hair behind staci’s ear and the younger man leans into the touch. “that’s okay. don’t rush into anything.” 

 

staci looks up, meeting jacob’s eyes, ice blue melting and reminding him a warm summer’s day. a dangerous one, but warm nonetheless. 

 

“i’ve only ever rushed into these things. i don’t know how to take it slow,” staci admits. it’s true. 

 

growing up gay in rural montana, you have to jump into relationships, be they healthy or not. staci’s been hit more times than he can count, been called a faggot, hissed at in hallways and getting slammed into lockers. 

 

everything was a million miles a second, from the first kiss to the first night together, drenched in sweat and kiss-bruised lips with a dick up his ass, to the first punch to the breakup. rinse and repeat cycle, and now all staci knows in quick relationship with some kind of abuse involved. it’s something he deserves, a fucked up kiss followed by a backhanded slap followed by begging for another. 

 

even if he craves the soft and gentle touches he’s always dreamt about, someone holding him, dancing in the kitchen at 3am. he craves the domesticity that his mother promised him when he was young. it’s not what he deserves.

 

“i’ve only ever known fast.” staci struggles to admit, throat burning, closing. 

 

jacob touches his cheek, gentle calloused fingertips dragging down his cheekbone. jacob’s face just screams pity, something staci definitely doesn’t deserve. or need. 

 

“i’ll show you slow. you’ll learn slow with me, peaches,” jacob promises, cupping staci’s jaw, letting the junior deputy lean into the touch. “we’ll go at your pace.” 

 

staci looks up tiredly, eyes older than his body, whispering, “we would’ve already broken up at my pace. or.. or i guess i’d be dead if it were my pace.” 

 

jacob’s heart pangs and he shoves it down. make the boy think you care, make him think you want him, and then use him as leverage against the rookie cop. 

 

“you won’t die here.” he lets staci nuzzle into his palm. “i won’t let you.” 

 

more empty promises. 

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE COMMENT ,,,


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